Elvith Loryax, Speaker for the Trees

[Naque]

Entry 1

I’ve recently decided I’m going to keep a journal of my exploits which will be proclaimed throughout the land, for I am Elvith Loryax, speaker for the trees. Except for the ones who can talk, they speak for themselves.

I shall call this journal… Douglas. A fine human name, I imagine that he’s a human, judging by the quality of the binding and the paper.

-Elvith Loryax

Entry 2

I picked berries today. Big blue berries bursting with brig bertuberence. Yes… bertuberence. I’ll have to get around to writing that down. I think I’ll eat one right now.

It seems they weren’t as good as I thought they would be, and they definitely weren’t as blue as I thought either. Perhaps I should have my eyes checked. I’ll have to write that down too, that way I remember to do it.

I’ve met a lot of odd people since I’ve traveled to Baldur’s Gate. For the life of me I can’t remember any of their names. No one here seems to appreciate the little things in life: a soft breeze on your face, leaves rustling in the trees, and a good gnomish polka. I’m sure they’ll learn the errors of their ways once they’ve danced with me. I’m quite the dancer as you well know Douglas. Jigging here, jagging there, tap the heels, twirl, Stop! Three-quarters backspin, bow to the judges, accept awards graciously. Yes, yes, it’s all coming together now. I’ll win the regional dance competition for sure.

People around here sure do waste a lot of wood though. Just yesterday I saw a group of people sitting around a campfire in the middle of the day. It wasn’t even cold out! What’s more one of them was an elf. He should have known better. I’ll definitely have to teach him the error of his ways. Speaking of elves, I’ve been hearing about something called Doron Amar. I’ll have to look into this as they sound like they know what they’re doing. I’d be very useful: tracking, berry picking, defending their lands, dancing, and I’m great at parties.

-Elvith Loryax

[Naque]

Entry 3

I recently had a revelation that I should write down how I came to be in Baldur’s Gate so I can reference it should someone ask me. Well here goes…

I was born at an early age (or so my mother said) in the High Forest; beautiful place by the way you should see it sometime, but I digress. I was raised to be a hunter. I’m actually quite good at that you should see me hunt sometime Douglas. What do you mean you don’t want to? Well that’s awfully mean. Well maybe I won’t write in you anymore.

//In a different ink

I’m awfully sorry Douglas. We shouldn’t fight like that, you’re one of the few people I know well and I don’t want to spoil our friendship over something silly. Moving forward…

After becoming a skilled huntsman (yes, yes I know you don’t want to see me hunt) I decided my skills could be used elsewhere and I left. What do you mean why? That’s a silly question. This is the shortened version. I don’t think the reader wants to know any more. What do you mean what readers? Bah! I’m in Baldur’s Gate now what does it matter? I guess I should probably mention Mielikki. Well that’s rude! You’re impossible Douglas I don’t know why I got mixed up with you!

//In yet another different ink

I didn’t mean that. Yes, we can still be friends.

-Elvith Loryax.

[Naque]

Entry 4

I’ve learned a lot since we last spoke Douglas. For instance it seems the practice of having campfires during the day when it isn’t cold is a common practice; perhaps it’s a cultural thing. I’ll have to look into that.

I’ve also learned that the area surrounding Baldur’s Gate is under the control of a mercenary band called the Flaming Fist. Many of the locals have told me the main attributes of this group include rudeness and lack of hygiene. However, having seen a few of them patrolling the roads and in the city itself it seems that the reports of their rudeness were over exaggerated, though their hygiene could use some work.

I’ve been occupying much of my time combatting the orcs in the Woods of Sharp Teeth as they are known. They seem without number, and upon entering their cave and exploring its deeper levels I’m not sure where they are coming from. Perhaps orcs don’t breed at all, but simply pop out of the ground. That’s what my mother said the Dwarves do, and having seen their woman I’m inclined to believe her. Oh well. Perhaps there is an end to these orcs, but I just can’t see it yet. I’ll continue to fight them until the trees are once again safe from their brutality.

On a lighter note, I’ve also heard of a group of gnomes who live in these lands, but I can’t for the life of me remember their name. Perhaps they can make me that gnomish time-piece that I’ve heard about.

I’ve also found the most wonderful friend in the woods. His name is Pookums. You be quiet Douglas it’s a wonderful name! He’s a badger of incredible intellect (well as far as badgers go anyway). He also has a voracious appetite and bad manners. I’ll have to spend some time training him. Actually maybe the gnomes could help with that, I’ve heard they are quite good with burrowing animals. He might just eat them though… I’ll have to think on this.

-Elvith Loryax